Sabbaticals to Insanity
by Sylvertongue
Summary: Harry and Draco are both sick of their respective realities and seek escape. Yet both of them are faced with the fact that that turning their backs rarely offers solace and can lead down unwanted paths. Most likely some boy love at some point.
1. Chapter 1

Placing a hand on her cage, Harry murmured a small goodbye to his long time companion. Hedwig ruffled her feathers in her sleep as if she could sense that something was amiss, but otherwise stayed silent. Glancing across the room, Harry could barely make out the rise and fall of Ron's breathing in the pale moonlight streaming through the parted curtains. His sight lingered on the dark form for a moment before glancing down at the desk to ensure the letter he had placed near Hedwig's cage was still in its proper place. With a small shake of his head he gathered his resolve, and in a moment later his backpack was situated firmly on his shoulders, the invisibility cloak covering his body and few possessions.

His short walk to the end of the Weasley's lawn had been uninterrupted and silent. There had been no worried Molly Weasley waiting in the kitchen, hugging her dressing gown close to her breast while her eyes flickered towards the family clock. In fact, unlike most recent nights, Arthur Weasley had returned from the Ministry mercifully early. The family had enjoyed a peaceful dinner, some fun in the living room, and had retired early, worn out from the effort of living in panic for the last week. He, Ron, and Hermione, had even been able to spend a while talking jovially before bed, for once their conversation not pierced with sudden declarations of fear or worry. And that had been the reason why Harry chose tonight to leave.

His decision had been made a while ago, but many things had caused him to stall over and over again. Most nights would find Molly Weasley patrolling the house and haunting the kitchen, her wary insecurity causing her to react to and inspect any and every noise. Getting past her would have been a task in its self, but Harry was honest with himself and knew that was not what had truly kept him waiting. Mostly he had been held back by guilt, knowing that his flight would cause strife and suffering for his friends, his only family. But tonight had hardened his determination. Seeing them relax for the first time in a long while had reminded him of what a burden his presence could be. Of course they would never see it that way. He was their family, and his safety was just a little bit more difficult to provide than usual. But he knew better, and recognized the difficulty he caused for them in their stead. He shouldered their burdened for them, and felt as though he carried the world.

With a heavy heart, Harry stepped past the boundary of the wards, turned on the spot, and apparated into the night.

Draco was sitting in an overstuffed chair wedged in a corner. Every few seconds his eyes would dart from the pages of his book to scan his surroundings, but he had yet to see any thing to worry about. Mostly, he was engrossed in his reading, his presence rarely disturbed. With a small smile and a sigh, he carefully marked his spot and tucked the book under his arm. Gracefully making his way through the cramped aisles and skirting past the occasional leaning tower of books in need of shelving, Draco noted with satisfaction that he was, as usual, the only patron left in the cozy bookstore so close to closing time.

Sitting behind the counter, Draco caught a glimpse of the hefty shop owner from where she was hidden behind the ancient till and cluttered books. He lay the book down gently on the only cleared spot next the to register, waiting quietly for her attention. A moment later she eyed him over the cover, and with a kind smile hoisted herself from her seat to attend to him.

"Now what are we going to take home this time, Seamus, love?" She asked him warmly.

"Pride and Prejudice and Zombies." Draco replied. This earned him a friendly laugh.

"Naturally." She teased him.

"Yes, naturally, Miss Martha." Martha, the owner of the bookstore, was rather fond of Draco. She knew him only under a false name, which had been the first one Draco had thought of when she had asked him a month ago, while she had skeptically rang up his first purchase. At first she had not been happy about his visits to her store, all too used to what she called "miscreant hoodies" who enjoyed giving her grief and defacing. But she had soon taken a liking to him despite his youth, finding his old fashioned manners and selected readings unusually charming for a boy his age.

"I wasn't sure when I first decided to order these, but after reading a few myself, I will admit they stick pretty well to the originals while adding a bit of fun. I hope these get more children reading the classics... not that you need the help, mind."

She bagged his selection, gave him his change, and followed him to the door so she could lock up after he left.

"Goodnight, Miss Martha." Draco said politely before exiting. She gave him another friendly smile and wished him a goodnight, locking the door as soon as it shut behind him. After taking a few steps Draco paused, looking to the sky as the streetlamps flickered to life around him. The dwindling sunlight had turned the sky above London into a surreal grayish-blue that would soon become the orange tinted night sky of a light polluted city, but for a moment the cool tones seemed to invoke a sort of silent calm that Draco couldn't help but admire.

But standing in the open of a London street was dangerous, and Draco knew this well. Snapping out of his revelry, he took up a brisk pace down the walk, keeping close watch on his surroundings and fellow pedestrians for any threat. A few minutes later he stopped before the steps to a flat, and after a sweeping surveillance of the street, climbed the steps and removed the keys to the door from his pocket. In his other hand he discreetly waved his wand along the edge of the door, removing his wards. That done he turning the key. The door had just begun to swing back when he felt the dreaded pressure of a wand in his back.

Draco closed his eyes, fighting down the fear that coursed through his body. He had to steel himself against it so he could execute his plan against such an event. He took a deep breath and was about to yell the word to activate his defensive spells around the door when the wand-wielder behind him spoke.

"Just get inside, Malfoy. I don't need any hysterics."

With an intake of breath Draco opened his eyes in surprise and stepped forward.

* * *

A/N:

First off, HELLO! I'm attempting to write you a story, and I sincerely apologize if it already sucks. Most people usually have to wait for the initial enthusiasm to wear off before that happens.

As for Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, yes, it does exist, as do other novel remakes of classics that include strange things. The authors consider themselves co-authors to the originals and just add their own interesting spice to the mix. I've only been allowed to read a few pages into my friend's copy of PP and Z, because I ruin books, but what I read was awesome in all forms of awesomeness. What else speeds a story about fighting classism along than a full on zombie assault?

Read, and review, or don't. I usually only review when I read a story that has over 20 chapters and hasn't been updated for about two months, and at that point it's just to stroke some ego to get those authors writing again.


	2. Chapter 2

Usual disclaimers and all that jazz.

So I was asked in of my reviews when this all takes place… well, let's go with end of 5th year. So Lucius is in jail, Dumbledore is not yet dead, and we're not yet sure if Draco has been indoctrinated into the madmen's cult (because, as you remember, that happens in the summer between 5th and 6th, during which this story takes place).

And also I'm making this current in the muggle world (i-pods, laptops, cell phones, and all the glories that have bamboozled us since 2000). It's just easier that way because I was 6 when Harry's 5th year took place and couldn't give a rat's ass about what technology was back then. No, back then it was more about abducting baby birds from their own nests in order to save them, only to be confused when they instead died. Face it, children are dumb. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 2:

Harry watched Draco tense, preparing for his retaliation, but it never came. Surprisingly, the boy stepped into the entrance with a gasp but no other outbreak.

"Potter," He said, spitting his name with an obvious attempt to conceal his astonishment. "What are you doing here?"

Harry waited to speak, instead reaching behind him and swinging the door shut without ever looking back. He was not sure what Malfoy would do if he let down his guard for even a moment, and wanted to clear the air before he could find out.

"Well, _Draco_, let's just say I saw you around and wanted to check in on you. You must admit, it is a bit odd for you to be here, in muggle London, in a muggle flat, and mummy no where in sight." He kept the wand trained carefully on Malfoy's back, and cursed himself for his last comment. Although he did not intend to engage in hostilities with Malfoy, he was already finding it difficult to not goad him a little. Not a good beginning.

"Yes, well, Potter, I can only commend you on your fantastic manners. Sneaking up on someone, unaware, and sticking your wand in their back as they enter their home. I wonder what other niceties the boy-wonder has been hiding." Malfoy sounded almost beyond angry, and Harry knew he had to do something before the situation became unsalvageable.

"Ah, this isn't how I wanted this to go!" He muttered to himself. Malfoy cocked his head back a little, trying to catch Harry's words. "No, Malfoy, I want to start over. I'm not here to hurt you, or do anything to you. I just saw you around and I wanted to see what was going on. I was more than surprised to see you here, and in the muggle bookstore…. I was just wondering if this meant your weren't as bad as you seemed."

Malfoy said nothing, but Harry could see some of the tension leaving him. By no means had Malfoy completely let down his guard, but it appeared as though he was no longer expecting any sort of sudden attack.

"I'm going to put my wand down now, and I want to know what's going on. Don't try anything funny, Malfoy, I've been doing extra defense training and I know you wouldn't stand a chance." Malfoy snorted, but nodded the back of his head at Harry. Slowly, he lowered his wand, ready to raise it with no notice if he thought Malfoy would try any thing.

Instead of drawing his wand to hex Harry into oblivion, Malfoy turned, slowly, on the spot, coming to face him. His face, in lieu of portraying the standard expression of indignant anger, showed amused annoyance. Harry was astounded that his reckless plan was not backfiring horribly.

"Well, are you going to come in? I'm anxious to give you a lesson in manners by exhibiting my superior hospitality." And with that Malfoy raised his brow, turned, and quickly walked out of the entrance corridor. Harry stood for a moment, shocked, before following with a huff, determined not to allow Malfoy to get the best of him.

As Harry entered the sitting room, he was struck by how much of the unexpected was being thrown into his face. A very normal, yet comfortable sofa sat opposite a makeshift entertainment unit that doubled as a bookshelf. A large television sat in the middle of the unit, flanked by what Harry guessed were dvds. This surprised Harry, as much as the fact that the shelving was not made of any sort of nice hard wood. No, instead it was assembled with various lengths of plank wood supported by cinderblocks and bricks, depending on the height of the particular shelf. Walking closer he would see a scuffed wooden coffee table place between the sofa and shelving on a plain rug.

"Sit down, Potter, while I make you tea." The yell came from a door leading out of the sitting room into what Harry presumed was the kitchen. Malfoy sounded almost gleeful, as if he knew Harry was uncomfortable and was enjoying it.

Harry moved to the couch unconsciously, about to obey Malfoy's order, when his curiosity took over instead, forcing his feet towards the books and television. Before he knew it, he was standing a foot away from the movie collection, skimming the titles.

"Star Trek: The Next Generation?" He muttered. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail?" Harry was phenomenally confused. Not only did the pure-blood brat have a flat, for reasons unknown, he also seemed to sport a movie collection that Harry, if he didn't know better, would associate to a nerd with a sense of humor. He moved onto the books and was no less amazed. Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy? A Brave New World? 1984? Moby Dick? He had not read very many of them, but knew of most of them in general, either from their unrelenting importance and popularity, or from movie adaptations he had occasionally glimpsed while the Dursleys watched television.

"Hey, Potter, get away from my tv!" Exclaimed Malfoy from behind him. Harry turned and was greeted by the sight of Malfoy carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

"Get a way from my tv?" Harry breathed to himself, not loud enough to be heard. Of all the things that had come out of Malfoy's mouth since they had first met, all the horrible insults and jibes, this was the one thing that surprised Harry the most. He realized, now more than ever, he needed to find out what was going on. Even if it didn't turn out to be spectacularly important, his curiosity would kill him if he walked away from this madness unenlightened.

Malfoy set the tray on the tarnished coffee table and sat heavily on the couch. Harry stared stupidly at him, much to Malfoy's obvious entertainment. After a moment of the wide-eyed staring, Malfoy indicated to the other end of the sofa, encouraging Harry to sit.

Harry hesitated, wondering if there were any dishonest intentions behind Malfoy's hospitality. Deciding after a moment he did not want to look a fool, especially in front of Malfoy, he sat on the sofa, maneuvering himself as far away physically possible from his host.

"Nervous, Potter?" Malfoy asked with an unkind laugh. Harry felt humiliated, but felt it was worth enduring, if only to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"You show me yours and I'll show you mine." Draco hummed at him, enjoying himself. When Harry gave him a blank look, he sighed with frustration. "So daft, Potter? I mean that if you tell me what you're doing here, I may tell you what I'm doing here."

"I, um, well," Harry stuttered. Taking a deep breath, he collected his thoughts. "I ran out from the Weasley's, you know, just to be alone for a while. It's hard, some times, getting alone time when you're the Boy Who Lived." He knew it wasn't a completely honest answer, but neither was it a lie. Despite the strange circumstances, Harry had no intention of feeding Malfoy any sort of ammunition for future fights.

"Oh, well yes, I can see how all that fame and adoration could be truly bothersome. Quite the nuisance." Malfoy replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes with aristocratic grace.

"Come off it, Malfoy. So why are you here, of all places?" Quipped Harry, trying to avoid a fight so his snarky nemesis would talk.

"Well, Potter, in a strange way the details are not too different from your own. I wanted to escape the doting attentions of my mother and the, ah, aspirations of dear auntie Bella for a short term, and the last place they'd look for me is, naturally, among muggles."

Harry thought he detected the smallest hint of a snarl when Malfoy mentioned his family, but decided not to mention it. The explanation was vague, as Harry's had been, and he figured Malfoy had used the same approach, a half-truth given for a half-truth. Harry sighed internally at how abmissmally qui-pro-quo it all was.

They sat in silence for a moment, each taking an occasional sip of tea (with Harry forgetting his suspicions about poison), until Harry looked out the window. During their tense meeting the sky had grown truly dark.

"Well, thank you for the tea, I guess. I should go now." Harry said abruptly, standing to leave.

"And go where, Potter?" Came the snarky reply.

"Oh, I thought I would go and find an inn or something." He said, uncomfortable with divulging his plans to Malfoy.

"Ridiculous!" Exclaimed Malfoy, surprising Harry. "You'll stay here tonight!"

"B-but I couldn't, that's mad!" Harry stuttered.

"I told you I would show you what a shining example of hospitality I am, did I not? You're staying." Malfoy replied with a raised eyebrow.

Before Harry could protest any more, Malfoy grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the sofa.

* * *

A/N:

Thank you for reading! Sooooo the story will be switching from Draco and Harry's point of view, but only as it works for the story. I'm not going to limit myself because of some pish-posh self-imposed rule that says I must switch each chapter. Hope you enjoyed.


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